Taint
by SorryStar
Summary: The darkness has been doing strange things to Riku's thoughts, and to his hormones. Riku doesn't know how to deal with it, and it's drawing him farther into the dark. Oneshot set during KH I. One-sided Riku/Sora


AN: Nothing but writing is mine.

* * *

Riku was horny, and this was _not_ the time.

He and Maleficent were trying to discuss how to desperately salvage a failing situation. Riku was tired and frustrated, and maybe that explained his _problem_, but he had no where to sneak off to and couldn't be bothered even if he did. So he tried to get rid of it. There had to be something he could think of to scare it off. Maleficent was old, dark, evil, smelled of smoke and poison, but there was a certain undeniable elegance in her cruel silhouette. He had to think of someone else. So many empty places at the table. Who used to be there? Hades, who was blue, dead, male, on fire and... well, witty, and he had a nice jawline. Not enough. Jafar was like Maleficent; regal, darkly attractive. Ursula and Hook were better, until Riku started to remember the serpentine flow of Ursula's tentacles, and the stubborn thing wouldn't leave him be and then... Oogie. The sack of worms. With a shudder of repulsion Riku felt his hormones subside, felt his mind drift back to the problem at hand, breathing deeply and hoping no one would notice his... anxiety.

It had been worse since the darkness. Before that Riku was never quite so eager for unclean thoughts. A few times, sure, but not like this. It was upsetting, and distracting, and inconvenient. Perhaps the darkness had accelerated his experience of puberty, he wasn't sure. He knew some boys were like this but it had never suited _him_. Not until now.

It happened again when he took Sora's keyblade. He had stood admiring his new keyblade and then... well, _that_ was an unexpected reaction. Now he warily eyed Donald and Goofy, hovering awkwardly nearby. He had more important things to think about, he really did, and this was still not the time. Maybe if he just took care of _this_ first...

"I need to get something. Stay here. I'll be back." Just a moment, then he could think straight again. He found the dark room he slept in and pulled down his shorts, taking an unpracticed hand to the task. Now he needed the opposite image, something to finish this here and now. His mind wandered over the round bosoms of the sleeping girls downstairs, bringing him closer. A brief image of Kairi flashed across his mental screen but he banished it. He would not taint her with this. She was too special. He was so, so close, and he had things to do, but something refused his release. What was wrong?

Then, unexpectedly, Sora's blue moon eyes. Sora falling to his knees, the submission, the toy sword.

Well. That took care of that.

Riku shook his head. It had been a strange day. It was a fluke and didn't mean anything. He needed to get back to work. However, he was still bothered by it. It wasn't that he thought of _Sora_, though that was weird, but he was bothered by the circumstance in general. His libido needed to stay away from this.

But when he slept, the dreams came. Riku bolted upright, sweating. The images his creative subconscious had cooked up for him struck now with full embarrassment in wakefulness. He buried his face in his hands and tried to rub them out of his eyes, imagined he could rub so hard he could scrape them off the back of his skull. But he was still left with a problem the cold night air only seemed to make worse.

"Leave me alone." he told it. He lay back down and waited. Five minutes. Nothing, except maybe it was growing sore.

There was nothing for it.

He tried thinking of the girls again, almost hopelessly. Of course not. It was Sora then. So be it. Sora on the island, Sora in his swim trunks. Sora when they were kids and nudity wasn't an issue. Sora in the river, washing the salt out of his hair. Sora sitting in the sand when Riku knocked him down. Sora crying over a broken toy. Sora smiling and holding two dripping ice cream cones.

He, Riku, was disgusting. With shame like a rash burned onto his face he thought of Sora, and when he was done he cursed at himself. And when he was done with that and done with feeling sorry, he looked over at the keyblade. _His_ Keyblade.

He had won, after all. He beat Sora. And, though he didn't realize it, at that moment he felt _better_ than Sora. And feeling _better _made the shame and self-pity go away. It made it less _wrong _to think of Sora when he... when he needed to.

The next morning Sora, the fluke himself, walked back through the door and reclaimed the Keyblade. Riku fled.

He stumbled through the castle, down hallways of echoing purple and twilight stone, footsteps like the dropping of concrete blocks.

Finally the voice came to him, offering him darkness, power, and victory anew. With his _betterness _gone, what choice did he have? The fear threatened to overwhelm him, and the budding powers of shame and pity were growing more potent by the moment, unfettered.

"But what _is_ the darkness? How do I open myself to it?"

"You give in to the feelings, Riku. The pain, the anger, and yes, the shame. You just have to allow yourself to feel, and let those feelings take you along their course. They are your power."

"Is that all?"

"What is it that you want, Riku?"

He thought about it.

"I want to help Kairi."

"What else?"

Riku's thinking took too long.

"Riku, what do you _really_ want?"

And then, unbidden, Sora crept into his mind again. He furtively tried to think of something-

"That's it. Your friend. _Your_ friend."

"No."

"He and Kairi... they were leaving you behind. They always were going to."

"He didn't..."

"You're older, Riku. You could see that change was coming, as it always does. You wanted to hold them together, but you wanted to see the world beyond. All of these things you wanted, Riku. And you were not wrong to want."

Darkness prickled like electricty along his arm, and Riku shivered.

"I'm here to be your friend now, Riku. Now let me in."

A face swam in front of him. A man's face, skin and gold eyes materializing out of true blackness, piece by piece.

_What _else_ do you want, Riku?_

The voice wasn't aloud. It was in his head. Was all of this in his head? Oh God, what could he see?

Ansem, the Seeker of Darkness, laughed. Riku's shame quickly boiled into rage, and he called the Soul Eater. Ansem's half-material hand caught him by the chin, fingers brushing his throat.

_Who are you angry at, Riku? Who do you hate?_

"...Myself."

And that was the last opening he needed. Darkness flowed through Riku's body like ice water, left him shivering.

_You don't deserve that. You're better than him. Do you want him?_

Riku didn't answer, but Ansem was in control now. He tapped the memories. The dreams he was so ashamed of.

_Do you want __**this**_?

_**No**_**.  
**

And Riku told the truth that time. He didn't want the real Sora that way, the way in his dreams. But he wanted the dreams, without ever hurting the real Sora.


End file.
